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Celebrity sex clinic: Looking for love

Poor Robbie Williams. At 31, with international fame, screen-idol looks, a big house in LA and a brand-new album in the shops, you would think he’d be on top of the world. Instead, he’s (still) lamenting the fact that he hasn’t found that “special someone” to share it all with.

Part of the problem is that Robbie is a hopeless sentimentalist, pining for his Stoke-on-Trent childhood of kissing behind bike sheds. “I absolutely f***ing loved my school days,” he said recently. “Not the lessons: my friends — I thought we’d be inseparable for ever.” Clearly, deep down, what Robbie dreams of is a nice curvy Stoke girl to soothe his furrowed brow and whip him up a tasty Staffordshire stew.

Alas, Stoke girls are a scarier breed altogether these days. Robbie may be just the sort of Little Millionaire Lost every crack-addicted, shell suit-clad, footballer’s-wife wannabe thinks they can save, but